11″w x 33″h x 2″d
Rayon embroidery thread, Tyvek, angora, Keurig coffee filters, watercolor
There’s a stretch of I-10 where the highway rises high above the Louisiana wetlands, and if you pass at the perfect moment, the world below suspends itself between myth and morning light. Steam lifts off the bayou. Cypress knees pierce the surface like ancient sculptures. Occasionally, something moves through the mist with such impossible grace that it imprints itself on memory long before you can name it.
I created Atchafalaya’s Prize from that moment. I formed elongated shapes from rayon thread and painted Tyvek, softened them with wisps of angora yarn, and grounded them with repurposed coffee filters—a marriage of elegance and the everyday, much like the bayou itself. The work drapes and flows as though caught mid-motion, leaving just enough mystery for viewers to imagine what it once was… or still might be.
This piece offers a quiet ode to the region, and all that moves through it:
• Sunsets that turn the water into molten color
• Cypress roots rising like storybook sentinels
• Life that glides and whispers more than it roars
• A culture where beauty hides in unexpected placesA prize, indeed—not because it reveals itself, but because it invites viewers to come closer, look longer, and discover their own story within its shifting form.
